Daimon - DANIELLE BOLGER (best fiction novels TXT) 📗

they made demands on the city for certain immunities, in exchange for the gang's protection. The Blue Coast had seen so much blood at this point that it would have been more apt to name us the Red Coast, as we are referred to in other parts of the nation. With fear heavy in everyone’s hearts, the city accepted this offer and gave the gang its own den of evil. That area is still named on a map as Paradise Grove, but everyone calls it Devil’s Eden, the home of the Fox gang.”

“The police made a deal with the Foxes?” Zach questioned, aghast.

“Exactly. This was all hideously covered up, of course, and now all that is common knowledge is that there was a gang war, both gangster and innocent died alike, and at its end only one gang remained claiming Paradise Grove as its hive. We all know to avoid that place, though it does not stop our youth and many others. The public does not know about the deal the city made to the Foxes, which, of course, was never officially stated anywhere. My own investigation led me to discover the truce, and it had been my mission to expose it so that the system would come crumbling down. With proof to my allegations, the federal government would have to stand in, send in the military if necessary and finally put an end to the rule of crime on the Blue Coast. My plan was to finally destroy the gangs in the city, but that...I don't think I will ever achieve anymore.”

I heard Zach's heart rate quicken and my own raced in response. My mouth watered, and I could almost taste a hint of blood in the air. No, Zach, don't get excited. It makes it harder for me to resist.

“Wow, Jane, that's really incredible stuff! You really found all that out? Hey, I really care about this story. Seriously, I do. I hate all the bullshit that happens. I want to see all the gangs come to an end on the Blue Coast, just like you. It may not be as bad now with one gang instead of the five from ten years ago, but one is still too many. They get away with too much. There are too many overdoses, too many violence-related deaths. I've seen the missing persons' reports, many of them their own families don't even care, but I do. Jane, I believe in what you're trying to do. I believe in this story. I want to help you. I'll get you the evidence you need, and once the country sees it, the federal government will have no choice but to get involved. You're right, this is exactly what's needed. Let me help you, and I promise we'll save the Blue Coast together.” He leaned forward, fists clenched in front of him. The sweet, gentle boy was promising loyalty to me that would get him killed. Days ago, I would have hugged him, but that day it made my evil heart feel that much heavier.

“I'm sorry, Zach. I should not have told you that.”

“What?” he cried incredulously. “Jane, do you know what you're taking on? You can't do all that alone, I don't care how much of a hero you think you are. If you take it on all by yourself, you're promising yourself failure. If you're going to succeed, you need help. Please, Jane. Let me help you.”

“You're too late, Zach.”

“Huh?”

“I'm not doing that anymore, so please just drop this, okay?”

“After all you told me, are you really going to give up?”

“Yes,” I snapped. “You can't save anyone if you can't save yourself first.”

“That sounds cowardly.” Zach's voice lost its passion.

I slammed my palms on the table. “Damn it, Zach! Listen to me when I tell you, these guys are dangerous. Get involved and they will kill you—I'm serious.” My arms were trembling. “I was hoping to learn more about them from any pictures you may have picked up, but now I wish I never asked for your help. Things aren't safe with me. I'm sorry, Zach, I really appreciate your offer, but your involvement has to stop here. If not then your life might be at stake.”

“Alright, Jane. You win, as always.” Zach regained his calm as another smirk crept onto his face. “Hey, I wanna help, but I'll back off if things are really as dangerous as you say. I'm not stupid.”

Despite it all, I found myself smiling in response. I never did smile very often, but it was Zach who always managed to turn my melancholy around. “You know, I think you're the easiest person to talk to.”

His grin widened. “I love talking to you too, Jane. Each time I do, I feel like I peel off another layer of your armor.”

“Armor, hey? I feel more like a raw egg; with just one drop I would be destroyed completely.”

Zach leaned forward, reaching for my hand. I pulled away.

“It's best to run and hide your head in the sand; it's what the rest of the city does after all. If you decide to fight, you'll quickly discover that you are the only person on the battlefield against a horde of demons.”

I took a sip of the attractive, yet distasteful, liquid before continuing. “People don't say it, but I always see it in their eyes. When the threat of another war rises, they envision it all again. You remember, right? Cars ramming into one another in the streets; the sound of gunfire ripping through the air; a person walking right in front of you suddenly dropping to the footpath with a third eye drilled into their forehead. I remember a story where an old lady had to be taken to hospital because of a heart attack after viewing someone who had fallen from the sky. She said that she would never forget the sound of how that stranger's bones, hundreds of them, all broke at once.

“Back then, plans were always very tentative, because you never knew if the restaurant where you planned to have dinner would be lost to a pile of ash or rubble before you ever arrived. You could never know if you were heading into the next area of collateral damage.

“Say your favorite restaurant still stood and you made a date for an intimate dinner with your family. You were a blossoming teenager with your parents telling you how proud they are with your exam results—all of which was suddenly interrupted by hail flying sideways through the air. Glass shatters all around you, and your ears become filled with deafening ringing. Then you would look around and realize that it’s not your ears, but everyone’s screams converging as one. You would be huddled on the floor behind a table and just barely notice one of the hailstones. As you pick it, up your stomach drops and you realize that the warm metal in your hand is a bullet. You would turn around, looking for your parents and find patrons drenched in blood, so many of them lying motionless on the carpet. You then find someone next to you, a woman who looks so much like your mother, but you knew that it couldn’t be her because that lady in front of you was dead.” I was suddenly breathing heavily, my world dizzy and unfocused.

I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah, I remember.” From his close proximity, I could smell the healthy dose of iron in his blood, and I could feel the gentle rhythm of his chest cause subtle percussive arcs through the air.

I shrugged his hand off me and glared haughtily. “What the hell do you remember? What the hell happened to you?”

“Jane, don't be like that. Don't push me away. This is good, you need to talk about these things.”

“There's nothing to talk about.” I pulled out the USB from my tablet and hurriedly packed it away. I slammed the likely corrupted information stick onto the table. “I've got to go now.”

“Wait, Jane,” Zach pleaded. “Just sit back down. Listen, we don't have to talk about any of that. Let's just talk about that annoying Emma from work or the latest fluff-piece you've been made to write.”

I was already gone, running away with black streaks pouring from my eyes.

Chapter Eleven

I took another long sip of my scotch-on-the-rocks as I sat at the Sands Casino bar and reflected on the self-imposed irony. I was struggling to retain control, to resist my primal urges, and yet I was consuming the very substance that destroys all that. I couldn't help myself. I was just too sad, too scared and too angry, so, I needed something to dull the pain, anything that could help me forget my dismal plight. It was failing, however. Of course, it was. Especially since I was drinking the detestable beverage that he favored, the very thing that carried him to his grave.

I mused over that strange habit all creatures shared: to lick one's wounds and pick at the semi-healed scabs. I wondered if, in our sorrow, we secretly hold the desire self-destruction. Was that why I forced detestable gulp upon detestable gulp as I sat alone in the populated casino?

I wondered if anyone would turn up. Ruby sent me here, but she did not tell me a time or a particular place to meet. Maybe she just wanted to send me on a wild-goose chase, all the while laughing at the idea of this murderess looking so lonely at a bar on a Saturday night.

The glass was soon finished and I placed it on the counter with a little too much zeal.

“Can I buy you another one, gorgeous?” An overly eager man quickly claimed the bar stool next to my own.

I eyed his throbbing carotid artery. “I'm hungrier than I am thirsty,” I stated sadly, as I tore my gaze away.

“Is that right? Well, I'm pretty thirsty, how 'bout after a drink I'll get you some grub?” He waved the bartender over and pointed at my glass. “Another one of these for the lady, whatever it is, and get one for me too.”

I eyed him hostilely. He grinned with pride. Oh, God, I sighed.

The bartender brought back two newly filled glasses.

My benefactor picked up the glass and indulged in a sip. “Scotch, I'm impressed.” He beamed. His heart shared in the excitement as it quickened, albeit somewhat sluggishly.

I slammed back the drink, without a second thought.

“There you go; that's the spirit. Nothing like a drink to take the hunger pangs away.”

My sentiments exactly, I thought.

“Say, what's your name? I'm thinking...Jessica. You look like a Jessica. Something starting with a J at least?” he probed.

“Sami.”

“No shit. So am I.”

Seriously?

“Well, I prefer Sam.”

I looked at the man's open-collared shirt. It was poorly fitted, with frayed stitching, and yet it did not look old. Just coming out of the open neckline a few brown whiskers pulsated gently.

Sam-Bam-Bam. I grinned at the rhyme.

Sam lifted his drink. “Here's to good scotch.”

I lifted mine up to his and our eyes locked. We drank in unison, watching one another, as if daring the other. He kept drinking, challenging me to follow him, gulp for gulp, and I did. We placed our emptied glasses on the counter at the same time.

I watched his enriched lips as they formed the words, “Wanna head out to the balcony?”

“Sure. Why not?” The alcohol was finally starting to work; I was forgetting the pain.

He interlaced his fingers in mine, smoothly, and led me from the bar, around some poker machines and out through a set of opaque black glass doors. He held one open for me as I passed through. I walked forward to the balcony barrier, dropped his hand and peered over the edge.

Beautiful as always. I watched the reflected lights twinkle on the water. Sands Casino was surrounded by a moat, framing the extravagant building like a castle that connected to the main river running through the city. I stared ahead, over trees growing along the far side of the bank and into the array of lights emitted from tall buildings in the foreground. This was the heart of Paradise Grove. The casino was easily the most beautiful attraction in the whole of the Blue Coast. It used to bring in tourists by the droves, but that was many years ago, before it changed into the hands of its current owners.

Sam eased beside me. “Beautiful.” He wasn't looking at the scenery.

I placed a hand on his chest. Suddenly,